Description: Alan R.B. is in a bad way; but fortunately, he has friends in high and low places willing to lend a helping hand, even when he might be thrown in jail for crimes he may or may not have committed. Acting as an agent of Kagero, Shihong Mao has come to free Alan from his prison -- but she's not the only one interested in the lightning boxer. Anemoi has turned their gaze on Alan and his enormous chi potential, and their very leader Brihan has personally come to acquire him for their own uses... and impart upon him a special blessing. And finding himself stuck in the middle of all of this is one Carmine Kolodzik, meek member of the MCPD. Poor, poor Carmine Kolodzik.
This has become dogshit.
Alan has made three more escape attempts since the debacle in the interrogation room. Each time, he learned something. First, he slipped his cuffs and made a break for it when being moved to the showers. Here, he learned that every single goddamn uniformed officer in the Division 8 Special Precinct Building is a fighter, and he only managed to knock over three of them before he was just horribly overwhelmed.
Second, he tried cunning, attempting to take an officer hostage and threaten his way out. Here, he learned that Division 8 has a man with explosion chi. Meaning he explodes.
Third, Alan simply punched the wall of his cell facing delicious freedom as hard as he can. Several inches into the concrete, there's some kind of ridiculous alloy. Where'd they get the money for this shit?!
So now Alan, with heavy foot and wrist shackles, is sulking on his cot. He despondently arcs yellow chi between his hands, blackened scorch marks surrounding the walls, building up a small orb floating in the air. He flicks his hands, the bolt cracking forward, creating another one and doing absolutely fuck-all. "Motherfuckers! Fuck!" He falls back onto his cot, rubbing at his increasingly-obnoxious long stubble. He doesn't beard too well. It makes him look hell of sloppy.
After his first thorough real-ass ass-whooping at the hands of Alan, Carmine managed to earn himself a slightly cushier position for a little while. His knack for ciphers and codes and other mathy things means he's as much of an asset off the beat as on, anyway; as such, he's found himself guarding the concrete room where Alan is contained.
All told, most of what he's spent his time doing on this particular assignment are puzzles. Keeps the mind sharp and focused -- and more importantly, drowns out Alan's noise... both physical and mental. Having conquered the crossword, the word search, and the Sudoku, Carmine turns his attention toward his greatest nemesis:
The Junior Jumble.
His Daffy Duck tie gives him considerable strength.
Prison. Nobody loves you, nobody cares about you; but for a few unfortunate wageslaves forced to process and monitor the events of your rather hollow existence, the entire world is all but destined to slowly forget that you share their precious oxygen. In short, it's like being an orphan, but with more interpersonal violation. And it's not a fate Brihan Bogale would wish on anyone with the uniquely talented profile of D8's pet convict.
This may be a lie. She may not give a damn. But orders are orders.
Somebody 'up there' must really like Alan R.B.
At this precise moment, the Ethiopian berserker is actually sat calmly inside the four walls of this well-guarded institution, her muscular though not overtly large frame clad in a costume several sizes too big for her. Okay, that's a lie too; it's not a costume, it's a /uniform/. It belongs to a guard currently bleeding from several orifices following a terrible accident involving a hard, bony protrusion and a rampant burst of indoor fireworks.
Brihan is trying not-at-all hard to forget about the fat ape's tragic fate as she loafs in his vacated swivel chair, heavy boots planted on a cheap desk inbetween a stack of greasy donut boxes and a mountain of unfiled paperwork. Her tongue clacks against the inside of her mouth as she impatiently waits for someone else to do the rest of her work for her, keeping a dispassionate eye upon the bulky alarm filling one corner of the dingy office. She's been placing bets for the last half hour, on when exactly the light will start flashing, and she's getting bored...
One boot begins to thump against the other, and the desk rattles. Louder and louder.
It's almost like something was about to explode. Heaven forbid.
MEANWHILE
"Mmn. Right. Save the chump, save the world? ...pft, it's a joke. Haven't you seen--nevermind."
Standing outside of Metro PD, Shihong Mao--Syndicate enforcer and moonlighting Kagero member (more the latter as of late)--is currently talking on what apparently is an iPhone 4G or something. Details aren't important; what /is/ important is that the person on the other end of the line has a job for her.
They want to get Alan back.
Quite familiar with Metro City, as she spent much of her early career years in its dusty alleyways and among the bottom-scrapers of the underworld, this would be a cakewalk in her mind. Nodding absently and looking less like 'criminal element' and more like some Asian lawyer in her stylish black pant suit affair, Shihong begins pacing toward the precinct.
"So what do I get out of this? What? That's all? Oh come on, now! You're the guy at the top, surely you can get me something nice~?"
As Shihong steps inside, she doesn't stop moving, nor stop talking on her cell. Instead she casually strides toward the door and area marked 'DO NOT ENTER - MPD PERSONNEL ONLY.' Several officers begin to approach, hands on their batons.
Several seconds later and one fiery psychic explosion later they're incapacitated and there's a gaping hole in the secure doorway.
SEVERAL MINUTES LATER
A head peeks out from the side of Alan's cell doorway.
"Hiiiiiii," Shihong cheerfully notes, lifting a hand as she tucks her phone away. She'd been on it the entire walk to Alan--and there's a trail of unconscious bodies to lead anyone her way. "I don't suppose you're /happy/ to see me agai--ugh, a beard? Really? What're you going for, some kind of bad ass rugged gay biker appeal?"
He probably isn't? But that doesn't matter, because after a beat she jingles keys.
"Call me your saint. C'mooon, you know you wanna."
Whether he does or doesn't, Shihong will open the damn door.
Alan's head turns toward Shihong.
"Well good god damn, took you long enough!" The despondent sulking falls away from him like a writer discarding a poorly-planned metaphor, and he pulls his legs up to his chest and ~~springs~~ to his feet. He kind of looks like ass - a bit bruised from his failed escapes, the knuckles on his right hand seriously scabbed and bloody from making the big crater Shihong can easily see in the wall, hair in disarray, and the orange jumpsuit look isn't really the best. Still, refusing to be denied, he leans on the wall near the door, giving Shihong his best flirty smile and holding up the ridiculous block of metal pinning his hands. "It makes me look intense and dangerous. Pop these things off, sugar-buns, we'll keep 'em in case you feel saucy with all the adrenaline later."
Suddenly, his face turns serious. "We gotta make a stop on the way out. They keep seized shit in the evidence room, I can't leave without my..." He hesitates, and then remembers. These people already know everything. There's no hiding. If his shackles are off, he rubs his bare left wrist, wincing. "My bracelet."
Carmine, mercifully, is on coffee break rather than active guard duty when shit begins to hit the fan; as such, he is mercifully spared getting his ass thoroughly handed to him in the initial volley of ass-whoopings. The rookie is so engrossed in teasing letters into appropriate word-shapes that he almost tunes everything out as 'another one of Alan's little furtive outbursts against a wall.'
The key word is 'almost.'
That fiery psychic explosion gets Carmine's attention the way nothing else can, his focus suddenly snapping to the source and his paper discarded. Almost on reflex, he reaches for his firearm... and then remembers, yet again, that he stopped carrying one.
The other half of his reflexes, however -- the half that sends him running down the hallways as fast as he can toward the high-security cells -- is still good, and Carmine's height and long legs give him a fairly impressive stride. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he mutters under his breath, the traditional vernacular of the men in blue finally starting to seep into his own verbiage.
"Ten, nine, eight, seven..."
As her twitching calves vibrate the table, Brihan counts aloud in her thickly accented tone, lips pulling wide and tongue practically lolling out of her mouth as she slurs each number, rocking her head back against her chair's padded back to stare up at the ceiling. In the corner of one glassy eye, she barely glimpses the alarm light start to flash. With that, she wrenches her legs back hard enough that the desk actually swings up onto two legs and starts to swing toward the ground.
"Hup!" The Ethiopian is already out of range when it CRASHES down, the wheels of the chair shrieking as they spindle at an alarming pace. She leaps up with the pivot of her perch, reaching up to adjust her appropriated guard's cap. And then something rolls into her peripheral vision, bouncing off the fallen piece of furniture to land beside her feet. It's a donut. She rationalises the situation and decides; five second rule, bending down to snatch it up.
"'ime do kwock omph."
It's probably not a big deal that nobody can hear her as she stuffs the sweet treat into her maw, shining white teeth tearing voraciously - the appetite of a born predator seeing her devour the donut in a few hungry chomps, while she otherwise busies herself stepping to and kicking open the office door. Adjusting the belt keeping the saggy waistline of her oversized trousers put, Brihan starts down the corridor toward the same destination as Carmine. She's not in a terrible rush - and she clocks him sprinting down the corridor ahead of her, a wide grin all but obscuring her face beneath the peak of her cap.
Bits of pastry and multi-coloured sprinkles fall to the floor. She's an animal.
"Time," she decides, breaking into a dash of her own, looking vaguely comical in her gigantic shirt. Her stance is rather less so, as she commits herself to a sudden sprint, bending low with fists raised, previously dull brown eyes now burning with a fierce inner fire. "To hunt."
A moment later, a 'fellow' guard crosses her path.
He's despatched with a fierce backhand, rebounding off a nearby wall hard enough that his head cracks open, sending a bloody spray into the air. His shocked scream echoes after D8's resident psychic, followed rapidly by the sound of resounding footfalls... Nowhere to run, it would seem, but forward.
COMBATSYS: Brihan has started a fight here.
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Brihan 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Shihong has joined the fight here.
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Shihong 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Brihan
COMBATSYS: Alan has joined the fight here.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Carmine has joined the fight here.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Carmine
Like, instantly, Shihong's expression sours.
"Well /fuck you/, you impatient jackass! Is /that/ how you greet your sweet angel of mercy?!" Scoffing loudly, the Chinese woman tosses her head arrogantly and ignores Alan as he leaps up. When he approaches a single red eye opens, giving the man A Look before she smirk and jangles the keys again. "Cute, but no thanks. That look is just so not doing anything for me."
The door is opened, and conveniently enough Shihong had acquired a key somewhere along the line to get his shackles free. At mention of a pit stop, the woman makes another face. "God, a pit stop already? You can just hold it, god damn it," she grouses. Sure, he's being serious, but as if she's going to pretend to care.
When he says what it is he is missing, the woman lets loose a loud, put-upon sigh.
"Ffffffffiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine," is her response. "We'll go get you your gay little jewelry, but I swear to /god/ if this winds up setting us back you /so/ owe me. And I tell you what, my tastes aren't cheap."
Meanwhile, elsewhere in Metro PD, klaxons sound shrilly, alarming all on-duty personnel. Among them is resident psychic Carmine, who had no trouble sensing Shihong's psychic energy signature. The Ethiopian berserker also makes her move; both of these are unknown to the Kagero psychic. For now.
"God, come /on/ Alan, get your ass in gear. Don't you /hear/ the fuckin' alarms? Let's /go/!" She'll even tug his arm, because damn. Those alarm are annoying the piss out of her.
COMBATSYS: Shihong takes no action.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Carmine
Alan gets tugged by Shihong at last. yessssss "Yeah, yeah, settle down! We've basically won at this point, I basically beat all these fools down last time." Boasting, Alan flexes his feet, legs freed from the shackles, and takes a deep breath, limbs loosening. Yellow lightning floods across his skin again, dancing in his eyes when they snap open, a sneer on his face.
Chi floods his fists, and he punches out at the nearest klaxon light, blowing it to hell with a crack of lightning. Finally, his group's come through. "Arright, evidence room's between here an' a way out, so that's somethin'." Alan's been dragged through this whole station, and he was paying attention the whole time. Alan turns on the heel of his prison sandal, flopping a few steps before turning a corner.
Directly into Carmine, literally impacting him and stumbling back. "Shit! Watch where you're goin', greenhorn, I'm breakin' out here!"
COMBATSYS: Alan takes no action.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Carmine
It's gotta be Alan. Either he figured out a way to break out or he's broken something, Carmine thinks, trying to sort through the sudden chaos in his mind as physical alarm bells join mental ones, making a mess of his perception, leaving him to attempt to suppress a growing panic.
He keeps on running, moving ever closer to the boxer -- until they abruptly turn a corner into each other, Kolodzik momentarily staggered by the high-speed impact of body against body. In an instant, he does a quick hop back, trying to stabilize his own stance as he feels the sudden crunch behind him echo through his ears and mind before being silenced.
Shit, he thinks to himself. There's too much going on here. Taking a deep breath, he decides to let his instincts guide him... and right now, they're telling him that the threat off behind him is bigger than the threat in front.
"I don't have time for you either!" Carmine replies to Alan, suddenly turning right back around. "I don't think you're the only problem here right now!" It seems Brihan has gotten Carmine's attention.
There's absolutely no hesitation following Brihan's mortal blow upon that hapless guard, nor any seeming regret that she already thrown aside her rather flimsy cover. It got her inside, to the heart of the facility - and this is all that matters. Rampaging down the corridor, she is like a scarecrow brought to nightmarish, maniacal life, all flapping garments around thrashing limbs. The grin tearing her face in two only seems to widen further as registers the appearance of Alan and his knight in shining business casual.
"Leaving already?" She hisses out, before /lunging/ the remaining distance, meeting Carmine's decisive turnabout with a fierce and rapid approach. As she darts forward, the sudden acceleration forces residual chi to bleed from dark pores, a sinister umber glow leaving a burning after-image in her wake. Her snatching hand bears the same taint as it lashes out toward the mild-mannered policeman, reaching not for him but for the whimsical duck upon his tie.
"I've got some business with your little pet--" She drawls thickly, cutting off her sentence to yank him very deliberately forward, aiming to pull him close to her face. Fiery, psychotic eyes burn into his, the sear of her energies already beginning to singe the material between her fingers when the other hand rises, an open palm seeking the side of Carmine's head to shove him carelessly, unceremoniously past her flank toward the floor, the wall, or whatever's handy. "Might want to sit this one out!!"
The important thing is he gets the hell out of her way. With him relocated, Brihan does not cease her gathered momentum, lurching forward to introduce herself up close and personal to the recently escaped convict. "Nice place you have here. How's the food?"
Exhaling heavily as Alan sees it necessary to punch the nearest alarm, Shihong just shakes her head and jerks a thumb toward the way she came. "Well I came one way, so I guess we've only got one way /to/ go between here and your precious metrosexual jewelry," she sasses, clucking her tongue shortly after. "I disposed of most of the trouble headed this way, but judging by the loud, obnoxious alarms they've got up in here, I'd say we're going to meet some resistance. Hope being in this shithole hasn't ruined your skills, 'cause I really hope I haven't wasted my damn time!"
Whatever may come, Shihong follows behind Alan--for good reason. Let the slacker take the damn heat, what with his loafing around in /prison/. However, his freedom is cut short when he bumps into Carmine, to whom Shihong gives a peculiar sort of look. /Something/ about that man seems different than the norm. Hmmmm--
"Shit," Shihong elegantly states, as Brihan leaps like a fucking panther at Carmine. "Who is this bitch?"
Pausing for a moment, she looks to Alan, then grouses, "Goddamn, can't you keep work and personal lives separate, R.B.?" Whether or not Carmine is flung, Shihong just scoffs lightly before she swings a leg around and attempts to roundhouse kick the ebony-skinned berserker in the damn face.
"Get out of the way!"
"Aw, come on, babe, I'm a natural! These skills don't rust!" Alan lifts those hands after colliding with Carmine. Electricity coils up his arms and dances along his fists, looping around his fingers to replace his lost iron rings. Eager to put fist to cop after his imprisonment, his knuckles crack with the force he puts into clenching them, the scabs on his right hand tearing. Blood drips down the back of his hand.
That's when Carmine turns his back on Alan??? His eyebrows shoot up. Ignored?! Well, at least for a moment.
He skips back a step when Brihan comes flying in, eyes roaming up and down... and frowning. "I got no fuckin' clue, but if she's gonna walk around wearing clothes three sizes too big, I ain't interested in what she's sellin'. But for what it's worth, keep away from any of the grains, meats, or vegetables." Carmine and Shihong are both focused on the newcomer.
That's an opportunity.
Perhaps some other man would think 'well I probably shouldn't leave my associate hanging with the psychic and the weird one' but Alan is basically a god of selfishness. A raw, desperate need pulls at him as he ducks under Shihong's kick... and bolts, electricity building up around his shoulder as he charges the evidence room door. "Hold the fort down, sweets, I'll be right back!"
COMBATSYS: Alan takes no action.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Carmine blocks Brihan's Quick Throw.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Carmine
The terrifying woman in the oversized clothes gives Carmine a forceful shove toward the wall, but Carmine manages to keep his stance sturdy; he takes the palm shot, but at the very least, he doesn't get smashed into a convenient hard surface. It's not a great feeling, but it's something.
Alan's selfishness does not go unnoticed, but at the same time, Carmine's instinctive knowledge says that ultimately this murderous enemy in front of him is the biggest threat among the three. He glances toward Shihong -- an associate of Alan's, apparently, but unknown beyond that -- and just winces for a moment. Priorities.
Carmine really doesn't like having to pick and choose his targets, but the borderline-monster with the eerie glow has done something terrible -- and when Carmine feels something terrible, he can't just let it go, even if it means letting someone else get away. Hand reaching down to his side, the cop looks for all the world like he's about to draw a gun and fire.
There's no gun -- but there's sure the report of a pistol, and there's sure a sudden bolt of force streaking for Brihan's body.
COMBATSYS: Carmine successfully hits Brihan with Stray Rounds.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Brihan fails to interrupt Spin Kick from Shihong with Supergiant.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Carmine
The following moments do not fit Brihan's plan.
Not in the slightest.
Alan's sudden retreat is covered well by his partner's actions. The baresark lashes her gaze to one side, tracking him with a feverish near-lust in her eyes. She is not entirely unprepared for Shihong, however; the woman's kick sharing an approach angle with the fleeing convict that allows her to at least try and prepare a suitable retort. She is already lunging for the woman, aiming to seemingly barrel straight through that kick...
But she fails to account for the rather unpredictable manner of attack that Carmine chooses. Wide nostrils flare in momentary shock, and even greater anger as a result of that emotion, before the Ethiopian is suddenly flung backwards in a flapping gust of over-starched material, psychic energy dissipating against the searing glow of her skin as she comes to in a crouch. Squatted upon the floor like a beast, she runs a hand back across her mouth, flicking away a line of frothy saliva brough forth by Shihong's impact.
"Isn't that adorable, cops and robbers working together. It warms my heart..."
Her teeth clamp together as she utters the last, shoving herself upright with a sudden, enraged snarl. Wrathful eyes rove as she snaps into a loose guard, jerking in a fierce, snapping rhythm that sees her head darting back and forth, snakelike, upon her long neck. "But what happens when you remove me? /Think about it/."
"I'll say," Shihong replies to Alan as he comments on the skinny young woman. Yes, she is totally giving Brihan a critical, catty look.
And then Alan is hauling ass /away/. What??
"Alan you son of a bitch!" Shihong cries as he ducks under her kick, making haste to the nearby evidence door. Furrowing her brows as she spins through with the kick, the Chinese woman just exhales in obvious agitation. "I swear to God I'll kick his damn ass so hard..!"
The report of a non-existent pistol is noted by Shihong. However, it isn't so much the sound so much as the /feeling/ of it coming to life that earns the cop the Kagero woman's attentions. Interesting trick, she mulls. But admiration for such things is put on the side for now.
"Like hell I'm working for anyone of the law," Shihong hisses at the Ethiopian woman. "I'm here for one thing and one thing only: that jackass." Jerking her head toward the evidence room, she notes her point. However, as Brihan starts acting Really Damn Weird, Shihong cannot help but find herself momentarily taken aback. What the /fuck/ indeed.
"I'll deal with it when I get to that point. Right now I just need your skinny ass to back the hell off!" Shihong exclaims as she drops down and slams both palms flat on the cold prison floor. At the same time long, lengthy legs ignite with fiery Psycho Power, lancing out and upwards in an arc: first to slam Brihan in the jaw, then the other staggered behind and coupled with an explosion to knock the crazy-ass ethnic woman away while Shihong comes into a handstand.
Assuming she doesn't get assbeat in the process.
Apparently they overlooked the idea of someone smashing into the evidence room with main force - Alan's shoulder slams into it, followed immediately after by the built-up wave of chi he's built up. Lights flicker and windows shake with the roar, and the door blows inward. It's /supposed/ to open out.
"Keep your panties on until later, I'll be right out! Damn!" Alan vanishes inside.
Luckily, the evidence room is very well organized, because it's usually the rookie's job to do it, and Carmine is the rookie forever. He shoves tables over as he hews across the room, tearing the doors of the 'seized effects' cabinet open - the lock protests before pinging across the room, sheared - and he digs through the Bs. Barton, Baloski, Berns... Bertrand. He snatches the plastic bag out, rips it open, and closes his hands on the simple silver chain.
The boxer lifts it to his forehead, his lips, and fastens it around his left wrist. As an afterthought, he pulls his last cigarette from the pile, lighting it and leaving the rest behind as he makes his way out, calm now, unhurried.
"Alright, let's go," he remarks, as though he had just changed his shirt. He lifts his right hand, gathering chi into an orb, and flicks it down toward Carmine, snapping his fingers at his back. "This one's for that mack truck hitting me in the head!" A bolt of lightning sizzles out, and Alan whips his arm around, snapping again. "And /this/ one's for having to look at your god damn ties!" His gaze tracks toward Brihan, eyes narrowing. Something familiar...
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Carmine with Lightning Strikes Twice.
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Alan 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Carmine
Teeth grinding as Carmine begins to feed on that rage from the berserker woman, the psychic begins to backpedal, feeling something teasing at the edge of his perception, something not feeling quite right. It's too late by the time he figures out what it is, though -- Alan's back, he realizes, a mere second before the thug begins to shout at Carmine.
Strike! Carmine takes the shot of energy dead-on in the center of his back, staggering forward in intense pain. A half-second attempt at standing back up again, and -- Twice! The second shot nails him in the back of the head, sending him sprawling to the ground and crying out in pain.
For now, the rookie decides to stay down, taking a moment to catch his breath... but more importantly, to assess the battlefield, feeling it out carefully, taking it in in its entirety. Don't get bogged down in one thing, don't hyperfocus, he tells himself -- take in everything, all the fighters, all the feelings...
COMBATSYS: Carmine calculates his next move.
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Alan 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Brihan endures Shihong's Coiled Serpent!
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Alan 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Carmine
"Do you really think--"
The Ethiopian's deep, exotic tone is cut off abruptly with the arrival of Shihong's flexible one-two strike. The first kick sees the berserker's head /snap/ to one side, mouth pulling into a ferocious grimace, teeth bared and spittle flecking as she immediately jerks it back around, meeting the second explosive kick with an open-mawed roar. That vermillion energy washes over her, searing at a soul ill-adapted to such trials.
Yet, when it clears, Brihan stands with a slasher's abandoned grin upon her stained lips. Inside her baggy clothing, a muscular frame is quivering, shaking with gathered tension. The floor around her booted feet begins to quite noticeably strain, developing hairline cracks. Eyes blazing with cloying desert heat stare down the Kagero operative.
"Persisting to attack me will make me LESS interested in you?!"
Bright white teeth, astounding against her ebon skin, flash broadly. She takes in the exchange between Carmine and Alan without once shifting her focus from Shihong, shifting her posture to coil deeply into powerful legs. It seems for an instant as though she will await a response from the far more graceful woman, even allow herself to be struck again, but then she moves. Faster than she struck out for Carmine, a ravenous streak of burnished chi erupting from her every pore as she draws back her head...
"Grrrr-AAAARGGGH!!"
And hurls it forth like a meteorite, the hard ridge of bone above her brow thundering and burning with filthy umber energy. The initial impact with Shihong's face will be just the beginning of three such mighty strikes, driving her back down the corridor toward Alan's cell, each subsequent blow delivered with a rejoining of that rabid battlecry. And each accompanied by a pure, horrible blast of that chi. It's... overpoweringly strong.
After the assault's brutal culmination, delivered with more than ample force to split bone and cartilege on that beautiful nose, the baresark sets her heels /hard/ and turns upon her heel, the stomp raising an elaborate network of raised cracks that stream toward the man she has left behind. She man she is truly hunting. Their eyes meet, hers boring into his with the absolute, sincere promise of incredible violence.
Brihan releases a prolonged, heavy hiss, lips pulling back to reveal her canines.
Shihong raised her ire, but she is NOT her concern.
COMBATSYS: Brihan successfully hits Shihong with Hypergiant.
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Alan 0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0 Shihong
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Brihan 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Carmine
"About fuckin' time," Shihong grouses as Alan decides to return to the fray. Hopefully he won't disappoint her; lord knows he's done a great job of doing it so far! "Get your shit together. Let's get the hell out of here."
Not that Alan would have to be told twice.
So Alan gets said shit together, by attacking the hell out of poor Carmine--the one true, legitimate officer. Wincing in response, the hairs on Shihong's neck stand on-end; that's a fuck load of chi, and it's starting to bother the psychic woman.
But that's for later. Right now she has to deal with some angry woman with rage issues.
The assault against Brihan is met cleanly--but Shihong knows there's just something /not/ quite right about the damage post-execution. The waif woman barely budged. That isn't how this is meant to go. And soon enough Shihong learns the hard way what it means.
Within seconds Shihong is completely ravaged by Brihan's forehead assault, the brutality of the attack, coupled with god-awful chi energy, slamming the hell out of the Chinese woman's face. Her pale, porcelain-like skin--the antithesis surely of Brihan--is stained a nasty color of brownish-red with every slam of the other woman's strikes until--perhaps mercifully--it stops and she turns her attention on Alan.
Shihong is, meanwhile, left a broken mess several feet away.
It takes a minute, but eventually the Chinese woman is pulling her body shakily to its feet. She coughs, blood spilling past her red lips, face cut, bruised and cracked across several points of her face. Shihong is shivering, in a mix of rage and fear. This woman is retardedly strong. But--
"Bitch how DARE you FUCK WITH MY FACE!!"
Furious, Shihong hauls ass, running off of pure adrenaline after Brihan's backside. She doesn't stop, either; instead, using that forward-momentum, Shihong leaps legs first at the woman's back. Midflight she erupts in Psycho energy, her body spiraling like a drill at the berserker's spine and--should feet touch--ALL that energy suddenly channels down through her legs and out of Shihong's feet to culminate in a massive burst to send the Ethiopian brawler flying several feet- -possibly into a wall.
A curious wave of stillness passes through Alan's body when he and Brihan lock eyes. His muscles tense reflexively, choking the chi out of his body for an instant. That's what was so familiar. That look in her eyes. That abandon. Before, he'd've just turned around and hauled out, but this is a fear he's conquered, even if he still has no idea how he managed that. "Shihong, watch that smooth ass of yours!"
The boxer aggressively relaxes, which is something you really have to see to believe. His body leans forward, arms slumping, cigarette smoking in his mouth as he lets nature's force flood into him, like a bucket of lightning. The corona erupts around him, electricity brushing the ceiling and rolling along the floor in rings.
Alan is terrified, but resolved. "She's, fuckin', she's like Vice, or something! This is a brave new world of crazy!" The blonde boxer starts approaching, holding his arms out, leaving his body apparently open - but when you can move like Alan, you're never truly open. Carmine is left to slump. "C'mon, bitch! I see that hunger in your eyes, ladies can't get enough of the R.B.! Come get a fuckin' taste!"
COMBATSYS: Alan gathers his will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Shihong
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Carmine
Granted a momentary blissful reprieve (in part thanks to, presumably, staying down and taking the situation like a bitch), Carmine gets a pretty good amount of time to take in the situation and clear his head. Groaning and getting back on his feet eventually, Carmine looks back and forth between his opponents -- first the berserker, then the Chinese woman, then Alan.
His attentions chiefly on Alan after that thunderous blow (pun wholly intended), Carmine decides to play it safe and do something a little less... demonstrative than some of his previous maneuvers. He needs a little time to catch his breath, after all.
Moving in toward Alan, Carmine swings a leg up toward the boxer's face. For the moment, he thinks that it's better to deal with the devil he knows than the devils he doesn't; it hurts and stings pretty badly right now, and he needs a little more time before he branches back out.
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Brihan with Strutting Crow EX.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Shihong
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Brihan 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Carmine
Not her concern, but still damned annoying; and that power...
Brihan whips her head around in mid-snarl, her mouth somehow only widening further - so bestial as to be unnatural - when simmering eyes alight upon the rampaging businesswoman. There is little she despises more than heroics. The petty courageous acts of mice and men strike her as a means only to create further obstacles for those with vision and foresight. Shihong has come to serve a purpose. It is /served/, and the Ethiopian is furious that she would still attack. So, why in the Nine Hells is she smiling?
"You're an abomination, Shihong Mao."
At volume alone, it might lack the overtly violent compulsion of earlier words. In tone it almost sounds playful. But the astute (and the psychic) will note the utter, disparaging hatred that stirs deep within. Here and now, this is a creature the baresark means to stamp out even if it costs her dearly. The dark confidence consuming her proud tongue is only evidence that she may just possess the tools to do so; and before the porcelain woman's devastating strike lands it is all but confirmed, as a sear of chi erupts to meet it.
It hurts. Oh, does it /hurt/. What's rather more uncertain is how much pain this monster will deign to feel. She is sent lurching forward, catching herself upon an outflung leg and sinking, breath exploding from her lungs as she struggles for composure. Or perhaps the very opposite, a resilient growl creaking from between spittle-flecked lips.
"RRrrr-ahahahaha!"
Spine creaking to a concave arch, Brihan's growl turns into rich, insidious laughter that echoes through the corridor. It may be unnerving, when coupled with the flood of energy pouring once again from her dark-skinned form, setting the stagnant air aflame with dirty orange blossoms. Heat seems to radiate from within and spread without, though the ultimate effect is like a vacuum - at their relative proximity, Alan and Carmine will feel only an increase in temperature, frightful and fast. At the outer boundary of the effect thanks in no small part to her talents, Shihong may notice that beyond the immediate area, the temperature drops with equal rapidity.
"AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA-- COME /ON/!!"
What is she? Brihan is sheathed in explosive, rusty taint a moment before she SNAPS her body forward, extending a clawlike hand toward Alan - completely disregarding Carmine as she uses her absolute, unbridled rage to unleash a destructive wave of energy. Even inside a jail built to contain the well-endowed likes of Alan R.B., the reinforced walls can barely withstand such crushing magniture of power. As heat and force spreads, the effect is like a trapped, multi-directional tidal wave, crashing off walls, ceiling and floor only to thunder back in toward the centre. Dragging all three of the Anemoi's victims inward, toward that horrible, sneering core.
Yet if she can reach him, Brihan remains intent upon the imbued boxer, allowing the remaining pair to fend for themselves against her will as she manifests it upon him - clasping to draw him close, digging bitterly hard fingers into his flesh. Arm, chest, face; she doesn't care. If she can maintain her grip, all that vestigial force will subsume him as her at-once fiery and utterly /dead/ gaze bores into his.
"YOU'RE MINE. /OURS/."
As to the cop and the bitch, let them belong to whomever finds the pieces.
COMBATSYS: Brihan successfully hits Shihong with Black Hole.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/-======|=======\=====--\1 Shihong
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Carmine
Oh, she heard that. Shihong Mao /heard/ this uppity crazy-ass bitch call her an abomination. Why? Because she can use a type of talent that is /foreign/ to the Ethiopian woman? So many people call her sort of power--the power of many psychics--such. But to her it's part of her strength. She will USE what she has been given to claw her way to wealth and power.
So it is with that very power she lashes out, feet first, at the shockingly sturdy woman in Shihong's sights. The problem she is faced with is, however, that she made no pointed effort to /avoid/ being struck. Landing her body with a delicate twist and low crouch, Shihong slowly--carefully--rises to her full height.
Wary red eyes are on the strange woman.
She visibly flinches at the laughter. Brihan's demeanor shortly after is just chilling--and it doesn't help that the psychic resonance of her power sends god-awful chills down Shihong's spine. There is considerable force emanating from this strange woman. It does not bode well--for her, or anyone.
And then it happens. Like some unholy wrath of the heavens itself, Brihan explodes with ridiculous power, catching everyone and every/thing/ inside the cramped prison hallways in its grasp. Sucked in, burned and sent through ridiculous amounts of pain, Shihong's cries of agony are lost upon the deafening roar of that unleashed chi energy. The flames are so incredibly hot--so hot that what bared, pale and porcelain-white skin of Shihong's body turn an ugly shade of blackish brown in patches. The moisture sucks out of her flesh, leaving it dried up and cracked. Where it cracks, blood begins to ooze.
Carmine and Alan are forgotten, for now. Instead, Shihong is forced to one knee when the power becomes at least less enough for her to bear, gasping desperately for breath. And once she manages to, somehow, get onto her feet, Shihong will attempt to interpose herself between Alan by snaring the Ethiopian woman by her arm and wrenching it painfully, seeking to actually dislocate the shoulder.
Only /then/ will her legs erupt in Psycho Power as she'll attempt to literally scale the front of Brihan's body with fierce, sharp steps of her heels while holding onto her arm before reaching shoulders; only then will she actually hop upwards, before slamming both Psycho Power-imbued Prada heels into the woman's shoulders and neck, to send the berserker face first into the prison floor. Painfully. "You BIIIIITCH!"
Shihong is not getting paid enough for this, she decides somewhere in the midst of it all.
COMBATSYS: Alan blocks Carmine's Heavy Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/=======|=======\====---\1 Shihong
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Alan effortlessly blocks Brihan's Black Hole.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan 1/--=====/=======|=======\====---\1 Shihong
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Carmine
Brihan has Alan's full attention. "Oh, you crazy bitch, you did /not/ just call the woman who can't get enough of me an abomination!" He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, and grins.
A single spark, shining bright, flies off his flawless white teeth.
In response to Brihan's explosion of power, Alan relies on his instinct, snapping his left hand forward, palm out. The silver chain starts to rotate in a perfect circle around his wrist, shining white, and a latticework of electricity floods through Alan's body, spiralling down his arm, and extending out in a wide dome. The area of contact between the intense flames and the crackling lightning hurts to even look at. The skin on Alan's fingers splits, his ring fingernail cracking. "Oh! OH! Don't stop, won't stop, can't stop! I'm the fuckin' best! Slow your ROLL!"
Unfortunately, Alan's shield of chi has served to at least partially shield someone else - Carmine, coming up behind him. Maybe he takes a step too loudly, maybe Alan just has all his senses flaring, but he shoves his hand out at the last second, throwing the shield forward enough for him to pivot and catch Carmine's foot on his wrist, forcing him away with a sneer. "Oh shit, rook, I thought you were done." His left arm swings back, still flush with chi. "Let me just get this over w-"
Alan's words vanish in a gasp, his body bowing forward, gathered energy flying away from him in a tremendous - but useless - wave. Shihong sees it - Carmine doesn't until Alan suddenly slumps forward, dropping to his knees. Brihan has powered through the shield, driving her hand into Alan's back. Electricity crackles around him fitfully, but not the usual small crackles - great bolts jump from knee to shoulder, from chest to scalp, between limbs, snaking around his body.
It's like a fire burning through his veins, but worse, so much worse. Alan scrabbles with weakening arms for the Ethiopian's grip, shouting wordlessly with pain. Finally, he manages, "You fucking slut! Get the fuck off! GET THE FUUUAAAGHHHH!!!"
One last fit of yellow energy crackles through him, and he arches his back, head tilted skyward, mouth open in a gurgling rictus. He beats at his own chest and tears at his hair in spasms, ruining that perfect slick-back. He gives one final shudder, and slumps.
...
...and back to his feet, without appearing to pass through the intervening space. One second, he's falling forward, the next, he's standing stock still, arms at his sides, head bowed. At this angle, his face is turned completely away from Shihong, and the lightning bolt hanging from his hair obscures both eyes from Carmine. He shifts, slightly.
His left eye is glowing bright red. His hands twitch - dark purple lightning, nearly red, spasms through his body.
Then, he's centimeters from Carmine's face, screaming. "UUUOOOOOOOHHHHWHOOOOOAOAAAAAAGHHH!"
COMBATSYS: Alan has awoken to their Rage.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan [E] 1/--=====/=======|=======\====---\1 Shihong
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Alan takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan [E] 1/-======/=======|=======\====---\1 Shihong
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Carmine blocks Brihan's Black Hole.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan [E] 1/-======/=======|=======\====---\1 Shihong
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/-----==|=======\====---\1 Carmine
The immense power of the Black Hole rips through Carmine, his body quaking in agony; he can't quite take it, finding himself crashing along the walls for a moment and then dragged in toward that wretched core. Gritting his teeth and trying his best to keep himself on his feet despite the considerable pain, Carmine barely manages to resist being sucked in all the way.
Pushing himself away once the storm of strength subsides, Carmine rolls his neck and attempts to focus again -- just in time to see that sudden shift in Alan start... and placing himself half an inch from Alan.
Half an inch from a screaming, eye-glowing Alan.
Wincing and screwing his eyes shut as forcefully as he can, Carmine tries to shut out a sudden sick feeling that he cannot explain or even quite comprehend. With eyes closed, he does what comes naturally when presented with something horrific shouting in his face: he repeats that ridiculous fake psionic gunshot trick -- over and over again, shouting in terror.
COMBATSYS: Brihan endures Shihong's Savage Tiger.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan [E] 1/-======/=======|=======\=====--\1 Shihong
[ \\\\ < > //////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Carmine
Now this? This is to plan.
Vaster and wider spreads that nightmare grin, baring shockingly white teeth in the midst of the maelstrom even as it fades with a diminishing howl. No sweat touches the black woman from the accumulated heat; if anything, by the time that the bestialised Alan pulls free from her horrible touch, her fiercely tense posture is that bit more supple and relaxed. An easing of the shoulders comes with a vigorous roll, joints popping as Brihan settles back, breathing heavy, the breath from her damp throat stirring the fading energies.
"Beautiful!" She expounds as the Rage takes hold, lifting a hand quivering with excitement to slick back her crimson-streaked hair in a manner mocking of the boxer's own rampant tearing. It's hard to tear the eyes away from her work, but they scan about after a moment. The cracked tiles and scorched walls that surround Brihan frame her, in her mind's eye, as some kind of cruel and victorious conqueror. Pride draws her crooked frame upright and bold...
Even as Shihong seizes one heavily toned limb. It barely registers to the berserker, who seems to simply allow herself to drift into a sea of pain. A resounding crack sounds from her arm, torn from its uppermost socket, and yet she merely chuckles, low and maddening. The sound is soon turned to babbling, choking gurgles as each subsequent heel finds a mark, flashes of vermillion light burning deep into bloody holes. Her bodily fluids smoke and bubble as they come glistening to the surface; and still she wears that sick grin.
It only disappears when she hits the broken tiles with tooth-crunching force, rebounding facefirst with a stomach-churning crunch that speaks of some fresh break to the battle-scarred woman's face. As it she cares. As if it MATTERS.
"You can't-- stop this..."
Her voice comes at a croak, words slurred even beneath that thick accent.
"It's ALREADY BEGUN!!"
Somehow, she surges to her feet. One moment she is down, and the next she is slithering, spiralling upward, her outlying limbs lashing limp arcs around the centre as it seems to rise through sheer brutal willpower. There may be nothing that will keep this tainted /thing/ down for good; though the blood, the bruises, and the sheer disturbingly human agony pouring off the Ethiopian at least provide some sensory reward for Shihong's destructive efforts.
Brihan lands upon her feet, though, and seems to snap forward to meet her landed opponent. Twisting from the waist in a single motion, possessing some eerie grace in spite of the brutality, she whips her right arm outward and around like a scythe. Callous, misshapen knuckles burn with more of that filthy chi as they come in to reap further outrage from the other woman as she is struck, again, in the face. Charred, bleeding skin is no match for the explosions that ensue - one for the stinging backfist, and then two more that progress in its wake, even as the hissing berserker sinks to one knee.
"Now lie down, little lapdog. /Stay/ down."
COMBATSYS: Brihan keeps on fighting!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan [E] 1/-======/=======|=======\=====--\1 Shihong
[ \\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Brihan successfully hits Shihong with Neutron EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Alan [E] 1/-======/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Shihong
[ \\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Carmine
Shihong is running on adrenaline and sheer willpower at this point. She's forcing her body to move, despite the incredible want and urge to just lie down and give up. Even as ...something takes over Alan, Shihong is not focused on that; instead, she remains wholly focused on the real, perceived threat here. Not Carmine, but this other anomaly in her well-laid plans.
The crazy bitch with no name.
So while Alan froths like a rabid beast at Carmine, Shihong is swooping in like the proverbial eagle for the pounce. She snares the woman and ascends her front, despite the low, rumbling chuckles that emanate from her. There is something awful--just awful--about her. She can't quite place her thumb on it, but...
When finally Brihan is introduced face-first into the cold, unrelenting floors of the Metro PD, Shihong feels like she can breathe. She exhales, even, stepping OFF of the Ethiopian woman's back and onto the ground proper with a click of expensive heels. Yet, just as she seems to rest upon her proverbial laurels, all hope is lost when she croaks.
Shihong's face twists, visibly angry as crimson-hued eyes begin to glow. Can't stop what..?
She pauses briefly, to peer at Alan. What, him going apeshit, she wonders--
When she looks back, Brihan is /back/ on her feet in record time. Before Shihong can even think to react, there's a backfist in her face not once, but several times, each blow punctuated not only by a stinging, intensely burning chi, but the sound of flesh splitting and bone crunching beneath.
Each blow sends Shihong staggering back. Somehow--miraculously--the Enforcer doesn't fall; she maintains balance like some sort of cat, arms pinwheeling and flailing for support. When the last blow to her face lands, Shihong moves. She reaches out, attempting to snare Brihan by the wrist with her pale, bruised and bloodied hand.
"If I...am going to lie down...I'm taking your ass...out with me...!"
Eyes burn intensely, like unrelenting wildfire--literally glowing in the shadow across her broken face. Unlike Brihan's previous explosion, there comes no buildup, no fanfare--though Carmine might be the only one present sensitive enough to note the sudden rush of psychic energy.
No, it comes like a flash of light, the entirety of Shihong's form suddenly engulfed in intense, crimson-colored psychic flame--flame that expands outwards rapidly, a shockwave of sheer psychic power and fire that seems to spread out to every possible nook, cranny and crevice. At its center, Shihong screams a voiceless scream.
Anything and /everything/ around Shihong is caught up in its wake. There is no ally or enemy; only an obstruction to be razed.
COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Shihong's Deva.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan [E] 1/-======/=======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
[ \\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Alan overcomes Hot Shots from Carmine with Thunder Storm.
Glancing Hit
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
[ \\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Brihan 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Carmine
One second, Alan is in front of Carmine, keening with an inhuman tone. The second, he's gone completely silent, and is suddenly several feet away. Then, he's in the middle of Carmine's panicked shots, weaving casually between them. swaying bonelessly... then he's several feet away again, slowly lifting both arms, a purple glow on the end of each fingertip. "Noooooooo," he whispers, a faint imitation of his typical mocking tone. His hands twitch.
Hellish twisting columns of chi spray out, one for each bullet of Psycho Power. The bullets blast through - and the chi curls impossibly in midair to slam into them again, blowing through and continuing on their merry way. Alan has begun to /cheat./
His head tilts back, observing Shihong out of the corner of his eye as he grabs onto Brihan. His eyes twitch back and forth between the two of them, but he feels no need to intervene. No need to care. He has no loyalty to that woman. He has no loyalty to the other woman. He has loyalty to himself. Nothing but himself. All for himself.
The question is, is Alan still himself? Is it something else?
Shihong starts to glow, and Alan is outside of the Division 8 Special Precinct Building, standing on top of a cop car. He glances down at it, and snarls. While the windows of the building glow with crimson light, the boxer's arms blur, pounding through the metal of the roof, shattering the siren lights like they aren't there, and moving on to rip apart the leather-upholstered seats.
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Carmine with Deva.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
[ \\\\\\ < > / ]
Brihan 0/-------/------=|=======\====---\1 Carmine
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Carmine with Thunder Storm.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
[ \\\\\\ < > ]
Brihan 0/-------/------=|=======\=======\1 Carmine
It ends up, in truth, not mattering whether Alan is Alan or something else -- because Carmine sure as hell isn't standing to see it. Carmine doesn't have time to react to any of what's happening. After that intense exchange between Brihan and Shihong, Carmine feels that split-second buildup of raw psychic /intent/ -- and then everything is going crazy.
That burst of bright mental flame rips into Carmine, the sheer psychic force something that Carmine is completely unfamiliar with. It's hard for him not to be swept away by it -- his own inexperience leaves him a prime target, Shihong's will simply dragging him along for an intense, agonizing ride.
A second later, the intense force of the energy of the world carving through Carmine's energy of the will and smashing into Carmine in the same instant that the psychic shockwave tears through him. When all is said and down, Carmine is down -- there's nothing for it but to crumple and fall.
COMBATSYS: Carmine takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
[ \\\\\\ <
Brihan 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Carmine can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
[ \\\\\\ <
Brihan 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Brihan with Deva.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
[ <
Brihan 1/-------/=======|
Shihong sob
Shihong's words are suitably prophetic.
There is a moment, in that instant before the precinct is consumed by vermillion hellfires, where their eyes meet for one last time; these two astonishingly powerful women. It is clear, in that instant, the while the source of the former Syndicate lieutenant's power may lie ultimately in emotion - she is not alone in that. The inhumanely disdainful curl of Brihan's fleshly lower lip belies a creature inside that is very much human. But the taint of her own energies runs deep, and that person is as fierce and as angry as the exterior would suggest.
Perhaps this fact powers the infinitely more graceful Chinese woman further, because on reflection - when she finally stirs - it will be the first time that the Anemoi has felt this pitiful psionic gift as anything more than a gross inconvenience. Somewhere in the pit of her psychosis, she actually gains a flicker of respect for Shihong. She'll remember it. As though the woman leaves the smear of dirty, bloody fingertips upon her very soul.
But for now, she is consumed, utterly and completely assailed by the scarlet storm. Her own chi bleeds in response, flaming at her pores and dissipating in oily sheets as she is beaten to the ground. The walls will still not come tumbling down though; no matter how little remains within the physical shell, so long as that still stands she will find a way. Her tenacity is that of the worst kind of predator. She will simply not accept defeat. So it is that even as sheets of psychic force still rage, tearing at the very structure around them, Brihan is pulled up once more by her puppet strings...
And her forehead closes in, looming through the searing light like an encroaching comet - lacking speed as she is blasted back as though by destiny itself, but certainly not lacking force or commitment. One last taste. One last explosion. And they may lie together.
COMBATSYS: Brihan can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
COMBATSYS: Brihan successfully hits Shihong with Giant EX.
Glancing Blow
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Shihong
What is likely a minute, tops, feels like an eternity to Shihong Mao.
Caught at the epicenter of the massive burst of psionic energy, the woman just continues to let out a silent, broken scream as everything gets caught in her fury's path. Everything, save Alan, who cheats like a cheater. She'll get pissed off at him later; for now, she's just unleashing pent-up Psycho Power.
When the proverbial smoke clears, Shihong once again has a voice. A croaky, broken and raw scream begins to dissipate from her throat, wisps of red energy exhaling from her lungs and rolling off her broken skin like fine smoke. It took all her resolve, all her strength--mental and physical--to let loose.
She staggers after, bleary red eyes surveying her environs. The station, trashed. Carmine, out of commission. Poor schmuck, she thinks. Wrong place, wrong time. Wrong people, too. And that crazy bitch--the one with the wild eyes..?
Her gaze lazily rolls toward where she thinks she can feel her presence. It's hard to miss someone like that, with such savage a psychic signature and so much raw power trapped in such a tiny body. She can't forget it. It was something that inspired /fear/ in her heart. It's been far, far too long sense she felt /that/.
When Shihong's eyes finally land on Brihan, the woman is quite literally in her face. Her head SLAMS into the busted brow of Shihong's pale face, followed by a nasty burst of energy to add insult to injury. The fact she'd been caught off guard, coupled with her body's rapidly-failing ability to function /and/ all the injuries she'd sustained before make for a sad equation for Miss Mao.
She dodges by weaving her body to one side. Slow, too slow; she avoids a head-on collision that would very well bust her nose, but winds up meeting Brihan's forehead with /her/ forehead. The energy sends her stumbling back before she just spills backwards, hitting the floor and piles of debris with a less-than graceful meaty thud. The moment her head cracks on busted prison floors is the moment Shihong goes out cold.
Alan is forgotten. Carmine is forgotten. Brihan is forgotten. All that's left is a dreamless unconsciousness.
COMBATSYS: Shihong takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Shihong can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alan [E] 0/-------/-======|
Outside, the savaged police car finally starts regurgitating fluff from its ruined top, and the engine starts turning over. It rumbles once, sputters twice, and dies.
There's a shriek, and the car erupts into a single enormous blast of dark purple lightning, storefront windows shattering for a good hundred feet in a blast of thunder that people will remember for years.
Alan walks slowly from the crackling smoke cloud, the lightning on his skin traded for St. Elmo's Fire glowing on his fingertips, his shoulders, dancing along his arms and legs, ringing his head like a ghostly circlet. He spasms, suddenly, falling to his knees, growling, teeth clenched. Blood drips from his mouth onto the pavement, and he swabs his hand through it, leaving a dark smear. The blonde looks up again, with a stained sneer.
He's gone again. A stream of smoke curls around the spot where he was, air collapsing back in upon itself. This is unlikely to end well, however it ends.
COMBATSYS: Alan has ended the fight here.
Log created on 19:28:35 02/08/2011 by Shihong, and last modified on 15:08:23 02/13/2011.